Like the Stars Miss the Sun
by youhavenopoweroverme
Summary: Belated posting of my piece for Pitchanna Week- Day 2: Angst. Inspired by a secret marriage prompt. Please let me know what you think!


The little girl he'd tried to scare for years had grown into a beautiful young woman, and none of Pitch's attempts to drown out her beacon of light and cheer had worked. Against his will, her strength and empathy drew him to that light as a moth helpless to a glowing flame. Anna in turn had found something deep to love in him, something he hadn't known was in him beneath the hostile face put up for children and any Guardians who got in his way.

He had visited her for years, and between them something grew. When she was eighteen, Anna had met him on her balcony on a warm spring night. Her favorite place to meet him, and easy for them to hide from Elsa's prying eyes. Usually they watched the blue-black sky until Anna was nearly asleep, or she'd share her secrets and hopes with him, or he'd whisk her away for an hour or two to see more of the world she'd been hidden away from for so long. One day she had asked him to be with her forever, just like that. As if there was nothing remarkable in finding something to love in the embodiment of fear. As if she had said aloud the very thing he himself desired but never told her. His love being returned by her was simply not in the realm of possibility to him, and even if it had been, Elsa and the Guardians would have prevented it, with a likely hostile fight ensuing. She might have had a number of suitors after her hand, even that disgusting ice picker with the reindeer she liked who always hovered around when Anna went on outdoor excursions, the only man Elsa seemed to deem good enough for her sister for some inane reason.

They soon married in secret by the Man the Man in the Moon with only Sandy as witnesses- both sworn to silence. Sandy, grown more used to Pitch after Anna's influence, did not like hiding anything from his fellow Guardians. But neither could he stand to see Anna so unhappy, and so had agreed when the princess had begged them to do her this one favor. And so they were wed, a little ways from Arendelle in the forest where none might see the simple wedding that took place. Anna had worn a black gown to better blend in, the silvery veil of moonlight on her hair in place of a bridal one.

But a month into their marriage, Pitch began to get restless. They could not live together as husband and wife, and so were only allowed to see each other in the quiet of the night as they had before.

"You've left with me before without being seen. You can leave now and finally be free. You can't be happy this way."

"We don't have a choice," she whispered, though it was late enough that the whole castle had to be asleep. She looked weary where she sat on the bed, and not from a lack of sleep. "I can't just up and leave home. This is the way it has to be."

"There's _always_ a better choice," Pitch retorted.

He couldn't dissuade her. He found all this completely unreasonable, and only went along with the secret at all for Anna's sake, as she still loved her sister and wished to stay out of misguided familial loyalty. He pleaded with her to abandon Arendelle; it already had Elsa. No harm would come from the spare leaving. He could see the conflict tormented her. She finally implored him to give her time to think it over; just because she had jumped into this marriage in haste didn't mean the next time had to be rushed, too.

She should have heeded him sooner. Not even two months in, and they were caught. Instead of finding his bright and cheery wife greeting him in her bedroom, Elsa and the Guardians stood around, weapons at the ready.

The confrontation had been ugly. All of the Guardians combined with Elsa's ice magic were too much, even while Sandy held back, and he was forced to flee, knowing they would be skulking around this tiny realm watching for him to take revenge on Elsa. Bruised and enraged, he tore his lair apart in a rage like none he'd ever had, hating them all and hating himself more for not rescuing Anna from that frigid little tyrant queen's rule sooner.

Pitch searched for her everywhere. He looked for her all over Norway. He'd even checked neighboring kingdoms. Grand castles and tiny villages, but nothing. He always went back to Arendelle as much as he could, though. It left a bitter taste he could hardly bear to stand when he saw the quaint little kingdom the light of his life had been stolen from, but something kept him there. He looked everywhere in the human world he could, which even for a spirit who didn't really need to sleep was exhausting. He had even stealthily snuck into each of the Guardians' homes and checked every corner to be sure, but wasn't surprised to see she wasn't there.

Time passed. Pitch had always despised the concept of hope, of keeping faith. It was something connected to the Guardians and their embarrassing goody-goody optimism, something meant to help protect children from succumbing to fear. He found even he was not immune to the feeling. The desperate desire to find Anna, make her believe he hadn't abandoned her… He tried to crush the feeling. If the Guardians had helped hide Anna like he suspected, there was little chance of him finding her.

More time passed. Pitch was successful in crushing that hope. He scared children as usual, but with a more vicious streak to his scaring style. He felt feral, wild in the ways he frightened them. And why shouldn't he indulge himself? There was no sweet princess to remind him of the good she saw inside him. She was gone forever and with her, anything resembling light he'd had in his soul. He could almost hear Anna contradict him, tell him there's good in everyone. He had always known better. Now that he had no reason to hold back, he didn't. It held no satisfaction, but it was a preferable feeling to the hard pain in his chest whenever an image of a girl's beautiful face with the blue eyes and warm smile he loved flashed in his mind. And no matter how hard he tried to forget them, he saw them everywhere, in dreams and awake.

One night, he was back in Arendelle, wandering around listlessly after a good scare of some children in the city. He knew to be careful, that if he tormented too many children in this area, it would surely alert the Guardians that he was here. But it brought a little mean-spirited gratification to punish the place the little ice witch ruled over.

He drifted along the outskirts of the kingdom, considering not for the first time that perhaps Elsa had been wise and spirited her sister away to a humble spot in the wilderness- close enough to keep an eye on but set off a ways where nobody would think to hide a princess. He saw a couple farms, a valley, a small, thick forest with a cabin.

With a blonde man coming the barn to the side.

Pitch's heart stopped for a moment. Why hadn't he looked closer around here? Why hadn't he thought of the boorish ice harvester before? His pulse returned. Bristling, he glided after the man into the small cabin, anger bubbling in his blood. Perhaps a good nightmare would be in order. No, something better than that. Something more visceral. Even if he wasn't trapping Anna here, oh, well. It would be a pleasure to make him squirm anyway.

The interior was rustic and surprisingly well kept for all its owner was a crude slob. Bigger on the inside, too. The man took his boots off at a bench inside the doorway, and Pitch noticed a smaller, more feminine-looking pair rested on the floor, a pink cloak hanging up on the wall. A painful cocktail of emotions brewed inside him in recollection of the clothing. Shock. Anna was here. She'd been here all along. Relief. _With this man._ Anger. It shot through his veins again, twice as piercing this time.

Elsa had won after all. His face twisted into a glower.

The man got up from the bench, stretched his back and headed off somewhere down the hall. Pitch was torn. Much as he wanted to make this oaf suffer more than ever, make him feel what he had felt all this time and then some. And perhaps, he thought in a moment of remorseful clarity, Anna had been right. Because if he'd been the same man he was before his heart belonged to her, he would have had no qualms doing exactly that. But Anna was more important. Remarried or not, he needed to see her. Needed to say so many things. He'd deal with the harvester later.

He was about to follow the man to see if he led him to Anna when a small noise caught his attention. It sounded like it was coming from the attic. Is that where young man had headed? He merged with the shadows and entered the room, alert eyes took everything in. There was a painted trunk, pictures on the wall, shelves with books and small toys on them.

And a toddler in the small bed, frozen in whatever game he'd been playing with a stuffed snowman toy, clearly as shocked to see the Boogeyman as Pitch was to see him.

Pitch stiffened. He felt a hand squeeze his heart. He hadn't thought the pain could get much worse, yet it threatened to overcome him at the sight of this child that belonged to Anna and another man.

The small boy said nothing, only stared at the strange looking man nearly as tall as his ceiling in his room. Pitch felt little fear from him; the toddler seemed merely curious. The thought of scaring the child crossed his mind. It would be an a far more satisfying revenge than going after the ice picker himself. He couldn't help but grin maliciously at the thought. He stepped closer to the boy, darkening the space all around the two of them to smother any light streaming in from the window.

His grin faded when the door to the child's room suddenly opened and Pitch tore his eyes away from the boy. Silhouetted by the hall's dim candle light was a woman's small, slender form. A voice gently scolded the boy for playing when he should be asleep, and upon hearing its sweetness, Pitch was filled with an excruciating recognition.

The woman stepped into the room but abruptly stopped talking when she saw Pitch, eyes round as the moon outside the window. And not from fear, he sensed that keenly. She'd recognized him, too: her rosy skin blanched, her back stiffened.

Something clicked in Pitch's mind. He turned his gaze back to the child sharply, finally seeing him. He had a shock of black hair contrasting against familiarly wide blue eyes that met his yellow ones with equal fascination. The boy's angular features matched his own, but his baby face and long lashes left them softer looking, and his skin was more alabaster than gray.

Pitch looked at Anna again, and felt time freeze while his mind was everywhere all at once. He thought he heard small sob shook, which him out of the spell cast over him. His own or hers, he wasn't sure, because he saw her eyes were as wet with tears as his were.

"Anna." His voice cracked, having none of its usual smoothness. For the first time, he was at a loss for words around her.

Before, he would have held out his arms in reverence for her, and Anna, bursting with love and passion, would have eagerly jumped into them. Now it was she who offered her embrace in an uncharacteristically tranquil air, and he who raced into them as if running from death itself. He sank to the ground as his arms wrapped around her tightly, overwhelmed by everything the reunion was making him feel. Now they were at a similar height. Anna buried her face in his shoulder as he pressed his own against the silky hair he hadn't felt on his fingers in an eternity. They had nothing to say to each other that couldn't be said in that embrace.

A black shadow shot beside the two, nearly hitting Pitch's face and making the two look up in surprise. "No hurt my Mama!" An angry little voice shouted. The little boy had dropped the snowman, upset at the sight of this intimidating stranger grabbing hold of his mother. His eyes glowed like a blue fire.

"Ben, Mama's fine," Anna assured, hurrying over to her son. "He wasn't trying to hurt me. He's…" she struggled to find the words.

Then she perked up, walked over to a shelf by the bed and took a picture off of it. She sat beside the boy and pointed to the picture, then at Pitch. "That's him, sweetheart. Don't you remember Mama telling you?"

Ben eyed the picture before giving Pitch a wary look. He briefly wondered if that was how he looked scowling at people. It was somewhat disarming on the child, though.

Pitch hid in the shadows while Anna got Ben to settle down and get to sleep. When at last the boy's eyes were closed and his breathing had slowed, Pitch took Anna's hand and helped her through the shadows to get outside. The moon shone down brightly. The two looked at it for a moment, Anna admiring its beauty and Pitch hearing what the Man in it had to say. The corners of his lips curled up ever so slightly. Manny always was the least insufferable of the ones who defended the world's children.

His turned his attention back to Anna. She caught his eye and leapt into his arms, just as she always had before, and finished their embrace.

"You don't know how much I missed you," she told him thickly, face against his chest.

"I can imagine. I wanted you every day."

Anna pulled away to look at him, a tearful smile on her face. "How did you even find us?"

Pitch froze, thinking of the correct response. It wouldn't do at all to anger her with the truth, not when they'd just been reunited at long last. "…I've been searching for you for years. I never thought Elsa would keep you right under my nose here."

Anna's nose scrunched up. "You weren't sneaking around looking for a kid to scare… were you?"

Pitch took too long deliberating, essentially outing himself.

"You were, weren't you?" Anna accused. "You're still scaring kids. And you were going to scare Ben!"

He decided to be blunt. "Yes. Most nights. Whatever it takes to make me forget about you. Not that it really worked."

Anna huffed. "Well, you'd better stop. I'm completely overjoyed we're together again, Pitch, but you can't keep doing that."

"I won't need to. Not anymore." He stroked a loose lock of red hair. Her expression softened, as it always would when he'd wheedle his way back into her good graces.

He looked over towards the window. "You named him Ben?"

"Bendik. I always liked it. I didn't know what names you liked." A little sadness crept into her voice.

"I like Ben." That made her smile. She walked over to the window, pulling him with her. They watched the sleeping child, looking content beneath his quilt, the snowman tucked tightly under one arm.

"He's beautiful." Pitch meant it. There was a profound and unique sense of wonder at seeing one's own children. The embarrassing, sappy sort of things he knew other parents to speak of their children… he could almost understand them now.

"He looks so much like you."

"No, there's far more of you in his face," Pitch said wryly. "I'm sure I never looked that innocent. He only has my hair."

"And your powers," Anna pointed out.

That was perhaps most astonishing of all to Pitch. Another being like him… another person who knew the shadows intimately, even at a young age. Three years was little to an immortal spirit, but now he felt he had missed ages of Ben's and Anna's lives.

"What was that picture?" He wanted to know.

"I'm not as good an artist as Elsa, but I drew pictures of you for him… just in case you ever found us, he'd maybe recognize you. He's still too young to really understand who you are, though."

"Perhaps, but he did seem to know me. Until I touched you, at least."

Her red lips curved up. "You're over three times his size, Pitch, and probably looked like you were going to attack me the way you charged at me."

"I couldn't help it. They took you away from me." The fire that filled his veins threatened to spill into his voice. "Three years or three thousand, it made no difference. Not knowing if I'd see you ever again, kiss you again, or if you hated me for leaving you."

"Pitch," Anna turned to face him, looking stern. "I could never, _ever_ hate you. I knew it wasn't your fault. You didn't know we were here."

"With _him_." His voice cut like steel.

"He's just letting me live here. We're not together," she explained, a little defensive. "Elsa arranged for it."

"Yeah. I'm sure. No doubt hoping you'd fall for him once you got used to the reindeer stench."

She sounded tired. "I know she wouldn't mind if we married. Elsa likes him."

"Elsa would like you married to one of North's yetis before me." He smiled mirthlessly.

She didn't laugh, only continued to look down at their boy, a distant look on her face.

Pitch touched her chin, lifting it gently with a finger to make her look up at him. "Anna. You don't have to live like this. You don't have to let your sister decide your fate anymore. Come with me. You and our son."

Anna met his gaze, then looked back at Ben. "I don't… I want to, Pitch. More than anything. But Kristoff… he'll think something bad happened if I just left."

"Tell him the truth. Leave a note. Take all your belongings. Let him know you choose to leave." _Then Elsa will know. She'll know her sister broke free of her frozen grasp forever._ "Trust me, Anna. We've been apart too long. I deserve to see my son. And you deserve your own life." He brought her closer to him, his lips pressing down on hers, her arms around his neck as she stood on her toes.

Kristoff did his best to calm Elsa down. Elsa knew Kristoff wasn't to blame. She knew who was at fault. It tore her apart.

Pitch took her sister. That had filled her with dread and fury. And Anna had willingly let him. That filled her with a mesh of emotions she couldn't explain.

The ice harvester had found Anna's few belongings gone, many of Ben's things. It heartened him slightly to see he had taken the wooden reindeer Kristoff gave him on his last birthday. He would miss them both, and was a little hurt Anna had said nothing about leaving, but he respected her decision. He understood better than Elsa what Anna's heart craved, and it wasn't anything found in Arendelle or in its forest.

The princess and young prince of nightmares had been spirited away with promises to visit soon enough, the letter left on Kristoff's kitchen table reassured him, provided that he didn't try to get Elsa or the Guardians involved.

As some tales went, somewhere under a bed, in an eerie lair mostly devoid of light with bridges that led nowhere and sloped staircases not meant to walk on, a princess as bright as the sun was returned to the darkness. And the king who ruled over the dark had no more malice in his heart, for the radiance and warmth of his new queen had vanquished it forever, it was said. The children they had were the perfect blend of shadow and sunlight, and the dark palace didn't need light with them filling its halls with laughter. A family was reunited, for light and dark would never again be forced apart.


End file.
